In the color of rose in the sky, in the ever-steady glow of your eye, let it all fade away...
"You don't talk much, do ya."
She shrugs.
"It's funny. You've got a face that suggests you're one of those chatterbox types."
"A face?"
"Yeah, a face."
"I don't know what to tell you."
"Why doesn't that surprise me."
She crinkles her nose and looks around her seat. "Your car smells like Cheetos."
"Yeah," he smiles proudly. "Whenever I don't wanna go'ta class I sit in the parking lot and have a bag or three."
"Is that so?"
He nods, painting a picture in his mind. "Turn the stereo up, blast some Black Keys. Kick back and relax. Best class of the damn day."
"That's cool."
"What's cool?"
"The Black Keys."
"Hm. You got a favourite song?"
"By the Black Keys?"
"Assuming we're still on the same page."
She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she ponders. "I guess Set You Free's a good one."
"Woah," he chuckles, "We've known each other less than ten minutes and you're already breaking out Set You Free?"
She stares at him absentmindedly. "I don't understand."
"Nah of course you don't. Here," he reaches across her and pulls open the glove compartment, "Find the CD you wanna listen to. I can't sit in silence for an entire car ride."
"Not offensive at all." She smiles and rummages around the cluster of paraphernalia he has stashed away inside the little space until her fingers find the solid edges of the CD case. She holds it out to him, not about to try and learn the ropes of his dinosaur of a stereo.
He quickly averts his gaze from the road to review her choice and nods in approval. "This'll work."
"You might want to-" An earth shattering drum intro of the first track cuts him off, "Turn it down first!"
Nick acts quickly to abate the music to a more comfortable volume and the both of them lean back, satisfied that they've not been left permanently deafened.
"So, you're still in school?"
"According to the government I am."
Jess cocks her head. "I don't understand."
"I ain't goin' back after summer. Had enough of that shit."
"Ah. You're one of those wild, rebellious guys."
"You could say that."
He speaks with a little too much confidence. It's not off-putting, but it is moderately intimidating.
"Is it a facade?"
"Hm?"
"Your whole anti-systematic thing. Is it a facade?"
He glances at her and chuckles.
"I'm serious."
"If it was a facade do you think I'd be handing out free rides strange hitchhikers on the side of the highway?"
"If it were."
"What?"
"The correct syntax is if it were."
"You're kidding."
"Grammar's important."
"Not to me."
She shrugs and turns to look out the window, resting her head in one hand.
"Why aren't you going back to school?"
He hesitates and scratches the side of his face. "There are a lot of reasons."
"So tell me the main one."
He shrugs, tentative to respond.
She sighs and traces little crosses in the dust coating the window. "It's okay if you don't wanna tell me. I'm the same. We can talk about something else if you want."
"We hardly know each other."
"All the more reason."
He groans.
"If it's of any interest, I thought you were way older than a highschool student."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"Dunno. I think it's your presence."
"My presence?"
She nods.
"So I guess it was my presence that bought me those six packs in the trunk."
"Could be. Or maybe a counterfeit I.D?" She grins.
Counterfeit. Who is this freak?
"Are you a cop?"
"I went as a cop for halloween two years ago."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Except I actually went as a cop. No ulterior motive."
"So not a slutty cop."
She shakes her head no. "I just feel like we as a nation demean the defence forces too much already, with the fishnets and stripper heels. A giant fake badge doesn't authorise you to sexualise such a stringent profession."
"You're just a barrel o' laughs aren't you kid?"
"Oh you don't know the half of it."
He chuckles. "So how old did you think I was?"
"Not sure. In and around nineteen, maybe twenty."
"Ah. Interesting."
Jess rolls down her window, letting in the soft hum of the road flitting beneath them.
She drinks in the fresh air, letting the force of the passing winds caress her skin like thousands of tiny feathers. It's an invigorating contrast from the mugginess in the car.
As the music booms through the speakers, she lets the melodies ring clear in her ears, her thoughts evanescent.
The sun is low in the sky, beckoning oncoming nightfall, and the skies are painted a gradient of pinks and oranges. The horizon bores a summer haze, radiating serenity. It's almost enough to put her to sleep, if not for the fact that it's still too early to fall asleep in a strange guy's car.
She shifts slightly and crosses her legs. His concentration transfixed on the road, seemingly unaware of how late it's getting. Neither of them are quite sure where they are or where they're going. Nick hasn't even bothered to ask if she sees anywhere she wants to stop, and she doesn't want to think about that right now. They just allow the time pass, the scenery to change and the skies to stretch on as far as they may.
This is where it begins. This is where her freedom lies. It is the kind of freedom she'd never been able to find in the pages of a book or in the twinkling lights of the city beneath her from the rooftops of skyscrapers. This is a new concept, a sempiternal idea that she opens herself up to. Whether this boy, this disarrayed, scruffy guy with the cheeto smelling banger of a car has set out on the same journey as her, she has no idea, but that is irrelevant.